


The Kind that Sees Sun and Brings an Umbrella

by Chash



Series: Neeeeeeeeeerds [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-14
Updated: 2015-04-14
Packaged: 2018-03-22 22:00:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,770
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3744937
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Abby Griffin met Bellamy Blake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Kind that Sees Sun and Brings an Umbrella

**Author's Note:**

> I swear, I will eventually write something in this verse that actually takes place AFTER the main fic, instead of just missing scenes from alternate POVs. Some day. But I liked writing Abby and Bellamy in the last one, so this happened. And I guess some of this takes place after the main fic! Get there. Title from Hello Saferide.

The first time Abby Griffin meets Bellamy Blake, he's mostly naked with her daughter; it's not the best first impression.

She's heard of him before. Not just from Clarke, either--he made a stir when the school was figuring out placements for the incoming ninth graders. No one had ever heard of Bellamy Blake, but there he was, two years older than the rest of them, top ten in his class, on the honors track. She had been rooting for him, in an absent way.

Clarke started talking about him like she didn't even know she was doing it, a casual mention of something he'd done every now and then, just another part of her life. From ninth to tenth grade, Abby noticed her references to him shifted as he became less of an adversary, more of an ally, until it had gone from _Bellamy says, but_ to _Bellamy and I think_ , all without Clarke seeming to notice it.

It's late July when she spots Clarke at the pool, standing next to the lifeguard's chair, talking to the boy sitting in it. It's such a strange sight that Abby doesn't quite believe the girl is her daughter at first; Clarke isn't the type who flirts with attractive boys at the poolside. And it doesn't even look like she's flirting, when Abby takes another look. Clarke is chatting with the boy, friendly and open, so easy that makes Abby's stomach clench. 

She's making her way over before she can think better of it, more curious than she can bear.

Clarke spots her first, straightens and hits the boy in the leg so he perks up too.

"Hi, Mom," she says, and the boy is hopping down off his chair in the same moment Clarke is looking back at him, like they can read each other's minds.

"I didn't know you were coming in today," says Abby, bright. She offers her hand to the lifeguard. "I'm Abby Griffin, Clarke's mother."

"Bellamy Blake," he says, shaking her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, ma'am."

"You too," says Abby. She's not sure how to react to this boy as Bellamy Blake; standing next to Clarke, the both of them in their swimsuits, they look like a couple on the cover of a magazine, some advertisement for the perfect teenage life. For all Clarke talks about him, she's never said anything like _he's tall_ or _he's handsome_ or _he's a lifeguard and I'm going to the country club by choice for the first time in years to see him_. It's not his fault that there's this whole part of her daughter's life Abby doesn't know about, but it's easy to dislike him for it. He's too old and too handsome and too charming, not the kind of boy her daughter should be friends with. "Clarke, do you want a ride home? I'm on my way out," she says, brusquer than she needs to be.

"Oh," says Clarke, surprised. She checks the time on her phone--her bag is hanging next to his on the lifeguard's chair, Abby can't help noticing--and frowns. "Yeah, I probably should." She slides her button-down on over her bikini top and slings her bag over her shoulder. 

Bellamy's frowning a little, and Abby feels guilty. It's unfair of her to be so short with him. "It was nice to meet you, Bellamy. I've heard a lot about you."

"You too," says Bellamy. He looks a little awkwardly at Clarke, like he doesn't know how to say goodbye with Abby there. He settles on, "I'm not working tomorrow. O's got a dance recital."

"Oh, okay."

"She'd probably be happy if you came," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. "It's at one, if you can get off work."

"I'll text you," says Clarke. "Otherwise I'll see you Monday? Or maybe Saturday, Raven and I are hanging out, we might come bug you at the coffee shop."

"Cool."

She waves and follows Abby to the car; Abby waits until they're moving to say, "So, that's Bellamy." Clarke crosses her arms and sinks into the seat a little. "You didn't tell me he was working at the club."

"I didn't think you cared."

"I'm always interested in hearing what your friends are up to."

"He works at the pool on weekdays and at a coffee shop on weekends and some weeknights," says Clarke. "He works all the time. That's his summer. Happy?"

Abby purses her lips. "But he has tomorrow off for--O's dance recital? Is O another friend?"

"His little sister, Octavia." When Abby doesn't say anything, she goes on, "She's going to be a freshman next year. I know her from the mythology club. She's nice."

"So you're going to go?"

"I'll ask Professor Kane."

"It's not very responsible to take time off on such short notice."

Clarke rolls her eyes. "He's always trying to get me to leave early on Fridays," she says. "But if he says no, I won't go. No big deal."

Abby looks over at her daughter, the defiant set of her jaw, eyes fixed straight ahead, and feels wildly jealous of Bellamy Blake for one insane moment. She can't remember the last time she saw Clarke look so comfortable with anyone, and she wishes she still knew that side of her daughter.

"Well, let me know when you'll be home if you do go," she says, and gets a grunt in reply.

*

Bellamy Blake's car comes to her house a lot; he picks Clarke up every morning and takes her home every night, but as far as Abby knows, he doesn't enter the house until Thanksgiving break of Clarke's junior year. She comes home from work on Wednesday to find his car in the driveway and the two of them on the living room floor with a lot of foam board, construction paper, markers, and some kind of sculpting material. They seem to be making a board game. Bellamy has a post-it note stuck to his cheek that says _loser_ in Clarke's neat handwriting; Clarke's wearing a crown of some kind. Abby doesn't want to smile, but she can't help it.

"I'm home, Clarke. Hi, Bellamy, I didn't know we were having company."

Both of them jump, and the relaxed mood in the living room is shattered. Bellamy pulls the post-it off and Clarke sits up straight, looking at her phone. "Shit, I didn't know it was that late," she says.

"I told you this was going to take forever," Bellamy says, and Clarke throws a marker at him. He looks at Abby, sheepish. "Sorry, Mrs. Griffin. I didn't mean to stay this long."

"That's fine. You're welcome to stay for dinner if you'd like."

"Oh, um, thank you," he says, awkward. "But I should get home." He glances at Clarke. "I'm off again on Friday, we can try to finish up then?"

"Wow, when was the last time you had three days off in a row?" she asks.

He shrugs. "It's been a while," he admits. The two of them start cleaning up, and Abby comes over to look at their handiwork.

"What are the two of you working on?"

"It's for mythology club."

"It's a huge--" he pauses, glances at Abby, and coughs. "Huge amount of work. For very little gain."

"The kids will like it, and we can enter it in JCL contests," Clarke shoots back. "And the mythology club can keep using it after we graduate."

Bellamy looks amused. "You already convinced me, remember? We're doing this. It's still a huge amount of work."

"Whatever. See you on Friday?"

"Yeah, yeah." He looks like he might say more, but he glances back at Abby. "Um, Happy Thanksgiving."

"You too, Bellamy," says Abby. "It was nice to see you again."

"You too, ma'am."

Clarke walks him out, and Abby can just hear them saying, "It's really creepy when you're polite," and "She's _your mom_." She bites back a laugh.

*

In February, she has an appointment to meet a student for coffee and she finds Bellamy Blake behind the counter. It's the first time she's ever run into him without Clarke, and it feels like an intrusion on Clarke's life.

He's chatting with one of his coworkers, but as soon as he sees her, he straightens up and comes to the counter, all awkward professionalism. "Hi, Mrs. Griffin."

"Hello, Bellamy. I didn't know this was where you worked."

"Yeah, just picking up a few extra shifts over break," he says. 

Abby knows she should _like_ Bellamy Blake. As first boyfriends for her daughter go, he's not actually a bad one. True, he's two years older than she is, but he's not any of the other things she'd heard he was, not a bad influence or a delinquent or any of that. He's a responsible, intelligent boy who obviously adores Clarke. But Jake was her first boyfriend too, and he adored her too, and that didn't stop everything from going sour and awful.

"What can I get you?" he prompts.

"Just a large coffee, thank you."

"For here or to go?"

"Here."

"Okay." He rings it up and then zeroes out the transaction. "You're all set."

"You don't have to--"

"You're Clarke's mom," he says. When she starts to protest further, he says, "I get three comp drinks a shift. I never use more than two, and I haven't used any today."

"Oh," she says. "Thank you, Bellamy."

"Sure," he says, and goes to grab her coffee.

*

She lets him get Clarke from the airport, a peace offering, and isn't surprised to find his car is parked in front of the house when she gets back from her meeting. She's a little surprised that Clarke's door is open, until she sees them on the bed, and it makes her heart ache. He's stretched out, reading something, and Clarke is all curled up in him, fingers clutching the material of his t-shirt, head against his chest, fast asleep. Abby looks at them for a long moment, feeling nothing but happiness and surprising herself with it. They're good kids, and they love each other.

She clears her throat, smiles at Bellamy when he looks up, and again when he agrees to finally join them for dinner. She picks somewhere inexpensive, in case he won't let her pay for his, and Clarke rides over with him instead of her.

The two of them sit next to each other in the booth, legs brushing, Clarke still only half awake, and Abby says, "Thanks for joining us, Bellamy."

"Thanks for having me," he says, automatic.

"How was your trip, Clarke?" She'd gotten a few emails, more than she expected, and some pictures. It felt almost like a peace offering.

Clarke yawns into her sleeve. "Good," she says. "Exhausting. I never really got all the way over jetlag and now I'm back."

Abby smiles. "Well, you have a few weeks to recover before you have to do anything else."

"Internship in August," she tells Bellamy, making air-quotes for _internship_. "Graphic design stuff for Professor Kane."

"I remember," he says, amused.

"Good for you. I barely know my own name right now," Clarke says, shoving his shoulder gently. He grins at her and she grins back, and Abby takes a sip of her water so she won't join them. She doesn't know exactly when they started officially dating, but it can't have been too long ago. They're very obvious.

"How's your summer going, Bellamy?" Abby asks him.

"It's fine, thank you."

"What are you up to?"

"I'm working at the pool again, and I've got a bartending job too," he says.

"Not at the coffee shop anymore?"

"No. The bar pays a lot better, I actually cut down on my hours a little. I get Saturdays and Tuesdays off now."

"You took today off, then," she realizes.

Color creeps up his neck for the first time she's ever seen. "Well, Clarke needed a ride."

Abby goes to the bathroom on their way out to give the two of them some privacy to say goodbye. He's still there when she gets back, Clarke leaning against him slightly, and she says, "Thanks for joining us, Bellamy. You know you're welcome any time."

"I know. Thank you, Mrs. Griffin." He smiles at Clarke. "Get some sleep, Princess."

"Shut up," she says, grinning. "See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, text me when you wake up. Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Griffin."

In the car, Clarke says, "You could tell him to stop calling you Mrs. Griffin."

"I think it's sweet that he's scared of me," says Abby. "When did you two start dating?"

Clarke looks down at her hands, but Abby can see her smile, even in the darkness. "Um, a few days before I left. I was going to tell you, I just thought--you know, I was busy getting ready to go, I figured I'd wait until I got back. I wasn't trying to hide him or anything."

"I know. He's--I like him. I'm glad you're happy."

"Yeah," says Clarke. "Me too."

*

"I thought I'd come check on you."

Bellamy looks up, slightly panicked, as he fumbles and drops one of his cuff links. "Shit. Hi, Mrs. Griffin."

"Bellamy," she says, amused. "You're about to marry my daughter. I think you can call me Abby." 

"Oh god, I'm about to marry your daughter," he says, his expression caught somewhere between terror and joy. Nausea, maybe.

"Breathe," says one of his best men; Abby's pretty sure his given name is not Miller, but that's all Clarke and Bellamy ever call him. "You've been writing Mr. Bellamy Griffin on all your notebooks since ninth grade."

"Oh, I didn't know you were taking our name," says Abby, crossing the room and helping him with the cuff link. "That's very sweet."

The other best man, Wick, snickers.

"I hate you both," Bellamy tells them. "Thanks, M--Abby."

"It's fine to be nervous," she says. 

"I'm not nervous," he huffs. "How's Clarke doing?"

"Arguing with Octavia about her hair."

He relaxes all at once, broad smile taking over his face, tension dropping out of his shoulders. "Awesome. Tell her to listen to O, okay? O knows what she's doing."

"I'll pass that on." She squeezes his hand. It's easier than she thought it might be to be happy for them; she couldn't help fretting when Clarke first told her about the engagement, but she knows Clarke and Bellamy aren't her and Jake. And even if they were, it would be stupid to hope her daughter never fell in love just because she might end up hurt. "You'll be fine, Bellamy."

"I know." He runs a hand through his unruly hair. "I'm not having second thoughts or anything. Seriously."

"We know," says Wick. "It's normal. You remember me before my wedding."

"Nothing about your wedding was normal," says Bellamy. "You guys are a trainwreck."

Abby smiles to herself. "Well, I'll let you two take care of him. I just thought I'd see if you need anything."

"Thank you," Bellamy says, sincere, not just his reflexive, knee-jerk politeness. "I appreciate it, Abby."

"Congratulations, Bellamy."

Clarke has already let Octavia take over when Abby gets back.

"Is he freaking out?" Octavia asks. "He's totally freaking out. I told him he should have let me be on his side and Wick could be maid of honor."

"Matron of honor," says Raven. "He's married."

Octavia sticks her tongue out. "Oh, sorry."

"He's fine," Abby tells Clarke, who's looking anxious. "Just regular nerves."

Clarke nods. "Yeah, me too."

Octavia finishes with Clarke's hair and steps back. "You want to do the veil, Abby?" 

She can't help finding it vaguely hilarious that Bellamy's sister started calling her Abby within minutes of meeting her, and it took Bellamy eleven years and her explicit permission. "Yes," she tells Octavia, and takes the veil, positioning it carefully on Clarke's head. "I'm very happy for you," she tells her daughter. "You look beautiful."

"Thanks," says Clarke, checking her reflection in the mirror. "For everything," she adds, soft.

"Of course." She kisses the top of Clarke's head. "Are you ready?"

"Yeah."

Abby takes her outside and gives her to Jake so he can walk her down the aisle. She thought it would be hard, seeing him again, but both of them are on the same side, happy for their daughter, and it's only a little awkward. When she goes inside, Bellamy is already at the altar, shifting a little on his feet. Abby flashes him a discreet thumbs up, and he relaxes.

She smiles and settles in for her daughter's wedding.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Podfic - The Kind Who Sees Sun and Brings an Umbrella](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6826051) by [bienenalster (pinkspider)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkspider/pseuds/bienenalster)




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